


Now What? (Knowing II)

by Lunaris (lunaris1013)



Series: Knowing [2]
Category: Fake News RPF, Pundit RPF (US)
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-18
Updated: 2005-04-18
Packaged: 2017-10-02 16:49:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaris1013/pseuds/Lunaris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein Jon isn't used to sleeping with his guests, Keith isn't used to being on his knees, and Brian Williams becomes a running joke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now What? (Knowing II)

**Author's Note:**

> My very first RPF, so be gentle with me. This is an immediate follow-up to [REDACTED]'s Knowing. It works on its own, but it works better if you read hers.

As the glowing green numbers of the clock changed from 10:38 to 10:39, Keith found himself in the quandary that always arose when he had a bed partner - namely, how to extricate himself from the post-coital cuddle. What made this different from all the times before was the gender and hirsuteness of that partner. For once he hadn't felt bad about wanting to roll over and sleep afterward; Jon had beaten him to the punch on that count. Now to move gently to the left while replacing the arm with no feeling in it with the pillow…

"Is your arm asleep?" Jon shifted from Keith's numb appendage onto the pillow as he spoke, looking up at his bed partner with an odd mixture of satisfaction and guilt in his eyes.

"You know how it is," Keith sat up, putting his own pillow between his back and the headboard, "you get to that point where you move or risk gangrene."

Jon sat up and put his feet on the floor. "Yeah, but oddly enough I'm used to being on the other end of that equation." His hand swept through his hair before leaning forward, head in hands. Any trace of sleepy satisfaction was gone from his voice, replaced by a tinge of bitterness. "So what? Does this make me your bitch now?"

"Yeah, because you're such a delicate little flower, Stewart. Get over yourself! You're an adult who had sex with another consenting adult. If you really feel the need to be somebody's bitch because of a mutual hand job and some spit swapping, I suggest you go down to Chelsea and find yourself a leather daddy."

Jon laughed and flopped backwards on the bed. "Fuck you, Olbermann! I've just had my worldview rocked."

"Among other things." The trademark Olbermann smirk appeared.

"Among other things," Jon grumbled and climbed under the covers next to Keith. "For somebody who claims to have never done this before you're awfully unflappable. Shouldn't you be going through some sort of existential angst right now?"

Keith picked up Jon's hand and entwined their fingers. "No. I got that out of my system before I decided to force your hand. One of us had to be level-headed or things would be going very badly about now. Knowing you'd…"

"…be wracked with Jewish guilt…"

"…need a little push, I figured you'd also freak out a little afterwards. I didn't take this lightly."

"So what happens now? I drop a C-note on the dresser on my way out?" The humor was back in his voice, "Wait for you to call?"

"If you really care, you'd send roses to my office tomorrow," Keith turned to the night table to retrieve his glasses and noticed that it was now 11:02. He picked up the remote control, "but right now I want to see my appearance on your show."

Jon leaned into Keith; Keith wrapped his now-functioning right arm around him and they watched in companionable silence. At some point during "This Week In God" Jon spoke. "So… what? I'm always gonna be the girl here? Always the holdee and never the holder?"

"Uh huh. Jon, how tall are you? Five nine?"

"Five seven."

"I'm nine inches taller than you, and my arms are proportionately longer…"

"Among other things."

"Among other things," Keith chuckled. "I guarantee you neither one of us will be very comfortable if you try to hold me this way."

"My next guest is not, I repeat, not a competitor of mine, even if he does have excellent hair. He works for an actual cable news network spouting his opinions, though I'm certain Fox News would dispute the validity of MSNBC's status as real news - they aren't fair and balanced, after all, and neither is our next guest. Please welcome Keith Olbermann to the program."

Jon watched himself introduce Keith. Damn if he still wasn't a few inches taller when Jon was standing on the riser! "My god, you're eyefucking me! We are so obvious!"

"Like anyone not wearing a tinfoil hat would believe you and I are clandestine lovers. Except maybe for Brian Williams."

"He hits on me whenever he's on the show." Jon said, resignedly.

"Brian Williams is the biggest slut in the business." Keith turned off the television and dropped the remote on the comforter. "I'm hitting the shower. Join me?"

"That depends. Got any falafel in there?"

That last comment earned Jon a good pounce. At least, as good of a pounce as can be accomplished by an extra-large newscaster from a horizontal position. "You know," said Keith, as he nibbled an earlobe, "I have this horrible urge to pick you up and carry you into the bathroom but I think you might object to being subjected to a feminine stereotype again."

"Try it, frat boy, and you'll regret it." With that, Jon pushed his attacker off of him, got up from the bed and started toward the bathroom. He was across the room before he realized that he was not being followed. He turned to see Keith still sitting on the bed looking at him with a puzzled gaze. "What? Change your mind?"

Keith blinked and stood. "No, just trying to figure out exactly when your pale, hairy ass became an object of desire."

"What happened to having the questioning and angst out of your system?"

Keith grinned at Jon's earnest expression. "You're about to find out."

****

The shower in Keith's bathroom was a roomy, marble and glass concoction with thermostat-controlled tap, a bench seat on one side, and the shower head mounted way up high. Between the two of them there was a good deal of lathering, rinsing and repeating, not to mention touching, teasing and stroking. All of this led, eventually, to Jon being pushed backwards until he sat on the bench with a thump, eyes level with the other man's reasonably impressive erection. He looked up at Keith, wondering if he was ready to do this for him. "Y'know, you're pretty imposing from down here," he managed. Then Keith smiled, then knelt down in front of him.

"This better?" Jon nodded, speechless. "I've never… I don't…" Keith stammered, taking Jon's cock in hand. Glibness evaporated, he looked into Jon's eyes for encouragement.

Jon swallowed hard. "Just, uh, try to imitate what you like, I guess. Hey, you don't like that freaky sh… Ungh!" Without so much as a lick to the underside or a nip to the head, Jon suddenly found his penis engulfed in the wet heat of the other man's mouth. The licking and nipping followed, inexpertly, as did a vain attempt at deep throating. All in all, it was probably the worst blow job Jon had had since Rachel Weirtz in the coat check room at senior prom. And like that very first time, the skill level of his partner didn't matter. What mattered was the who and the what. And the right now.

"Keith? I'm gonna… It's…" Jon panted out in warning. But Keith was not letting go. There followed for one man the familiar bright lights behind his eyelids as release was found. For the other it was the altogether new experience of having bitter, salty fluid hit the back of his tongue. Neither one was complaining a bit.

*****

The next day, there were a dozen long-stemmed red roses delivered to Keith's office in Secaucus. The card read, simply, "Brian Williams."

**Author's Note:**

> _Disclaimer: Any similarity between the fictional version of the person portrayed here and the actual person is purely coincidental. This is a work of fiction. This is not an attempt to defame the character of said person on the basis of libel, as the work is FICTIONAL (and NOT an intently false statement created with the express purpose of misleading others about the actual character of said person)._
> 
> _Any mention of any associated entities, or any copyrighted material pertaining therein is reasonably protected by the Fair Use Rule of the United States Copyright Act of 1976, and is not intended to infringe upon any copyrighted material._


End file.
